


Trying to Bend the Truth

by KaitlinH27



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 6x01, Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt, Gallavich, M/M, Mickey Knows How to Spell Fucking Gallagher, Prison, Short One Shot, Trying to Fix Bad Writing, Trying to Make Sense of Canon Bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 00:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaitlinH27/pseuds/KaitlinH27
Summary: Ian reluctantly visits Mickey in prison in 6x01."The very worst part of you... is me"





	Trying to Bend the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I have always seen Ian's cold calculation in this scene as a protective front. Otherwise this scene was so out of character and I can't deal with it just being bad writing (even though we know it was.) This is me trying to make the scene fit with the Ian and Mickey we know. 
> 
> Title comes from the song Lying from You by Linkin Park.
> 
> This is my first time writing for Gallavich and the first thing I have written in about 9 years. I have no intention of writing anything else, I just had to get this out of my head. I wish I had been inspired to write fluff but alas, this is what was stuck in my head.
> 
> **************************************************

Ian paces in the small space. He can’t believe he’s here again. He had meant for the last visit right after the trial to be his last. He had resigned himself to stay away; to pretend Mickey didn’t matter and that it wasn’t torture that the love his life was in prison for the next decade and a half. He can feel Mickey’s eyes on him but he tries to keep his down until Svetlana gets up and takes Yevgeny from him.

Ian hesitates. The pull to go to Mickey battling with the turmoil of knowing just how unsatisfying and painful this conversation will be.

“Thanks for coming back.” 

“Yeah. Svetlana paid me.” He knows it’s a low blow but he had resolved to remain cold. Anything less than cold would do neither of them any good.

From the small glance Ian gave him as he said it, it appears to have the desired effect. Mickey’s wall is coming up. There’s a moment of pause as Mickey appears to contemplate where to go from that. “You look good.” 

Fuck Ian feels like a piece of shit. 

“I got a new tattoo. Did it myself. Hurt like a son of a bitch.” Ian looks up, annoyed that he cannot contain his curiosity, as Mickey pops the buttons on his uniform and pulls down the top of his tank top. 

Ian’s heart jolts. A chorus of excited 'holy fucks' shoot through him at the idea of Mickey being branded as his, followed by a thrill of fear at how dangerous that tattoo could be for him in prison.

“Je-ssus! Looks fucking infected.”

“Hard to round up a clean needle in here,” Mickey states nonchalantly.

“Gallagher’s spelled with two L’s,” Ian says and Mickey’s face falls. “No it’s fucking not.”

He laughs, even though he wants to cry, as a gorgeous smile appears on Mickey’s face. He knows that smile. And Mickey damn well knows how to spell his last name. The mother fucker permanently marked himself incorrectly just to get a laugh out of him. He knew Ian had been cold on purpose their last few meetings. He knew him too well and he knew Ian was shutting down.

Ian can feel his resolve slipping. He’s smiling and he feels the calm only Mickey brings him. Fuck. He plasters the impassive look back on his face and goes back to looking at the smooth surface of the counter in front of him.

“Been thinking about you. You ever think of me?” 

His eyes betray him again and glance back to that beautiful face of their own accord. ‘Fuck yes,’ Ian thinks. 'Every second of every day all I think about is you and how much I want you out of this place.'

“Gonna wait for me?” Mickey asks, his eyes conveying every ounce of hope and love Ian knows is in him.

The memories rip through him like a tidal wave. Every look, every kiss, every fuck, every tender brush of fingers on skin in the middle of the night. The "Don't" and "Sorry I'm late" and “I love you." And  "really?" 

That's all gone and it fucking hurts.

“You’re in here for 15 years,” Ian’s heart pulsing and clenching as he says it.

“Yeah but it’ll be 8 with over crowding so…” 

And there’s that look again. Ian worked so hard to get that look. He pushed and pushed and pushed to get Mickey to admit how he felt and now he is looking at Ian like he is the center of his universe. How can he still look at him like that after everything? After Ian’s twisted brain convinced him that breaking up with Mickey was what was best for both of them? 

He tried to save Mickey. Tried to set him free from a lifetime of dealing with a broken person with a defective brain. But it was the wrong time and he let the emptiness overtake him and he let Sammi and the trial and everything pass by while he was numb and once Ian surfaced it was too late.

“You tried to kill my sister” He’s reaching again. Trying any half truth possible to make Mickey stop looking at him like that. But Mickey knows him too fucking well. He knows it’s bullshit.

“Half sister, one. Two, like you give a shit. Bitch had it coming calling MP’s on you.”

He wants to agree. He wants to smile. He wants to put his fucking hand on the glass cause he’s sure that Mickey would react differently this time. A loud buzzer goes off telling them their time is up and oh god there’s the crushing anguish coming back. The ripping of his soul and his body and his mind at having to leave Mickey.

"Will you? Wait?"

The truth tears through his mind so violently that it makes him feel like the world is shifting on it’s axis. His heart pounds and his hands shake and he wants to scream, ‘Yes! Yes I’ll wait! 8 years, 15, 30. Jesus, I don't give a fuck. I’ll wait. I love you. I fucking love you. I'll always be waiting.’

But he doesn't say it. He can’t. He barely knows his own mind anymore and it fucking hurts having to look at Mickey through bulletproof glass. He’s barely able to contain how much it aches not being about to touch him. He can't look at Mickey and he can't not look at him because both actions rip and rip and rip at his insides until the bleeding fills his lungs and he can't fucking breathe. He can’t breathe.

Mickey reads Ian's hesitation wrong and Ian can tell his confidence is gone now that their time is up. "Fucking lie if you have to man, 8 years is a long time." 

Ian drops his eyes again wanting so desperately for things to be different. But this is what it is and fuck it hurts and Mickey's looking at him like he's drowning and Ian's answer is his only lifeline.

Even as he's saying it he wants to take it back but he knows this is the only way he'll survive the next 8 to 15 years. It's selfish and cruel and the right words come out but the inflection is all wrong. 

"Yeah. Yeah Mick, I'll wait." 

With one last look as he hangs up the phone, the last fragments of his heart shatter into a million bleeding pieces as his lover's face falls. 

Fuck he hates himself.


End file.
